


under the same ceiling, always

by ensaymada



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Confessions, Love Confessions, M/M, Roommates, no beta we die like men, thank u hit the road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ensaymada/pseuds/ensaymada
Summary: Wonwoo shares a lot of things with Jun: food, clothes, unspoken thoughts, fears he’s yet to realize, unsaid feelings, and a bedroom.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 5
Kudos: 101





	under the same ceiling, always

**Author's Note:**

> no beta/edit. penned as soon as i had the thought.
> 
> inspired by wonwoo’s htr ep! :D

Jun had already showered and dressed up in his comfortable sleeping clothes when Wonwoo entered their shared bedroom. He plops down on his bed, cheek first and chest flat on the mattress. Jun gives him a look with both brows slightly raising.

“Are you trying to break your glasses again? We just got them last week.” Jun’s attention quickly shifts back to his phone after he had spoken, Wonwoo left to chuckle to himself. He stirs until he’d made himself comfortable, eyeglasses askew, the side of his face pressed onto the white sheets as he faced his roommate who was half-sitting, half-lying on the bed beside his.

“How has your day been?”

It was a night like the usual, where they start a conversation with the same question - this time, it was Wonwoo’s turn to ask.

“I had a lot of fun today.” Jun’s answer was followed by a prolonged pause; something Wonwoo has already been used to. It doesn’t last much too long, just enough time for Wonwoo to finish counting the litter of beauty marks on Jun’s face and some parts of his neck that wasn’t covered by his top. Jun begins rambling about the highlights of his day even with his eyes on his phone screen. Wonwoo listens attentively, nodding although unsure if Jun could see him, throwing little comments here and there.

Then it just flows naturally until the room was blind-dark; Jun’s phone now left screendown on the small table that separates their beds. The night has gotten deep and so has their conversation. They’ve touched a lot of topics already, “Don’t you think we’d be sent to a mental institution or something if someone happened to hear us talking about this?” Wonwoo says at some point. They muffle their low laughs with their hands, afraid they’ll wake the others up.

Maybe they should’ve just gone to sleep.

Because now, they’re discussing the uncertainties the future holds. It’s something Wonwoo doesn’t want to talk about; always dodging the topic, working around it, trying to distract who he’s conversing with.

But it just doesn’t work on Junhui.

Because Jun is so full of curiosity.

Because Jun isn’t scared of inevitable change.

But Wonwoo is.

He’s nothing short of terrified.

Wonwoo likes keeping things constant and well balanced. He likes falling into routines and habitual activities - much like the late night talks with his roommate. Wonwoo values consistency.

“Look, you just have to accept that nothing will last forever. What you have now is only for now and won’t stay until tomorrow. It’s simple, really.” Jun stretches his hand, fist grasping air, then opens it to stare at the back of his palm, his fingers black against the white ceiling of the dark room.

Wonwoo had already removed his glasses, sight blurry as he stared on the bare walls, seeing it as an empty projection screen for his daydreams to be displayed, his eyes acting as projectors of what’s going on inside his mind.

He sees Jun’s figure getting smaller and smaller until the guy completely disappears from his field of vision. He keeps quiet and his feet stays rooted on the same brown brick road where they used to wait for the bus together. It’s the future Wonwoo has thought about - Jun leaving. He doesn’t want him to, but he also doesn’t make a move to stop him.

He blinks rapidly until the blurry imagery disappears along with the slowly building sleep on the back of his head. He lets out a long, quiet breath as the plain white wall stares back at him.

Wonwoo closes his eyes, “That‘s the scary part, you know?” He answers nonchalantly, trying to make it sound like he spoke without much of a thought. He hears Jun shuffling slightly around his blankets, turning to look at him. He doesn’t move though, afraid that Jun will see the movie playing on his irises. 

“Tell me about your fears.” Jun’s voice is deep, low, barely audible but oddly comforting.

Silence envelopes the atmosphere between them, the low buzzing of the air conditioner suddenly seeming to be so loud, it’s deafening.

But Jun waits. He doesn’t turn away from Wonwoo - he moves closer to the edge of his bed instead.

Wen Junhui - always so full of patience.

“I’m scared to accept the fact that I grew up to be so vulnerable when I promised my old self that I’d be far stronger than before.” The words fall out of his mouth lightly, as if it’s nothing at all. As if it doesn’t carry the weight of all of Wonwoo’s unspoken burdens that he tries to lock and bury under his mind, together with the deepest, darkest parts of his memories, only to resurface every single time Jun asks him how he’s been. “Jun, I’m scared of the simplest things. I’m afraid that tomorrow won’t be the same as today or yesterday or all the days before that - because if it’s different then there’s no assurance that I’ll know what to do. And if I don’t know what to do then I won’t know for sure if I can make it through.”

“Wonwoo, I’m scared of spiders.”

Wen Junhui - always one to make him smile.

“I know.” Wonwoo says, chest light. “I know that because you always refuse to believe me when I tell you I’ve already killed it. You just won’t come inside the room until I show you the dead spider you saw on the corner of your closet.” His smile spreads up to his cheeks, eyes forming crescents, nose scrunching slightly for a split second. The warmth of the memory spreads through his chest and pools down his stomach.

Wen Junhui - always one to bring him comfort, even on the most unexpected times.

Jun hums. “Do you think I’ll ever pray for it to rain spiders?”

Jun takes Wonwoo’s few seconds of silence as a sign that he won’t be getting an answer from him. So he continues,

“Wonwoo, we don’t wish for what we fear.” Wonwoo keeps his eyes and lips closed. “I talk to you every single night. We ask each other how the day went by. Everytime you say your day didn’t go well, you’ll add, ‘I hope tomorrow will be better’.” Wonwoo slowly blinks his eyes open, projecting self-made constellations onto the ceiling above him.

“You also wish for change.”

Jun sits with his back against the headboard and looks up. Wonwoo wonders if Jun can also see the stars.

But of course he can’t.

They share the same ceiling but not the same sky.

Jun’s world is so much more than his. So much better than  _this._

“Everything will change, Jun. That’s so scary. Everyone will grow out of their interests. Everyone will find something new. One day, you will too. You’ll find something better to do every night than listen to my nonsensical thoughts and argue about the possibilities of parallel universes and brainstorm about black holes with me. It’s not ‘changing’ on its own that I’m afraid of, Jun. I’m afraid that everything, everyone, will change ... and I’ll be left as a distant, gradually fading memory at the back of people’s minds - people who once saw me as a friend or family. I’m scared that I’m a hundred percent sure I will disappoint the little me who wanted to grow up to be someone worth remembering; worth keeping.”

The words were hot against Wonwoo’s mouth. His tongue stung as he spoke. His front teeth buries themselves into his lower lip. Wonwoo’s chest aches for a reason he doesn’t want to acknowledge. He likes to think he’d grown an iron heart - his cold and silent demeanor has always helped in making people think he’s heartless.

But it’s still there. And it isn’t made of iron. It’s just a mush of blood, blood vessels and muscles. And it hurts. It hurts with the thought that people who values him will just abruptly change their mind one day and decide that they just don’t need him anymore.

“You’re not afraid of change, Wonwoo. You’re afraid of abandonment - afraid that change will drive people to leave you on your own.”

Wen Junhui - always the one to understand him.

“I’m afraid that one day, I’ll be talking to myself on the dead hours of the night that I used to spend talking to you.”

“Do you know what scares me the most?”

“Spiders.” Wonwoo answers, no beat missed.

Jun chuckles. “Yeah, well, guess again?” Wonwoo gnaws on his bottom lip, Jun watches him do so. He offers the slightly younger man a good five seconds to think about it then speaks after Wonwoo only gave him silence.

“I’m scared that you’re already satisfied with what we have when I want to do so much more with you.” Jun leans his head against the wall, eyes cast upwards but closed. He hears Wonwoo shift a bit and he just smiles. “I love this, Wonwoo. Talking to you every night, having the luxury to listen to the softness, excitement and fragility in your voice that I doubt anyone else has ever heard of. But I want so much more.”

Wen Junhui - always one to surprise him.

“I want you to keep telling me about your day and share not only our daily stories in this bedroom but also a bed - so when you say your day was bad I can hug you close to my chest and run my fingers through your hair instead of just telling you that you’ll be fine.”

Wonwoo feels his breath get caught up on his throat.

“Instead of my phone, I want to hold your hand. Then, you’ll use my finger instead of yours to trace the air, trying to explain the shape of clouds you imagine to be above our heads and on our ceiling. I want to see your constellations and galaxies. I want to know what’s so interesting about our clean white walls.”

Wonwoo doesn’t want Jun to go on because if he does, his heart might just leap out of his chest. But he can’t find it in himself to make his roommate stop ... because this is the good kind of a racing heart. His heartbeat rings in his ears, smoothly accompanying Junhui’s soft voice as if it was a song made only for him. Something made for him to listen to in secret, confined in the four plain walls of their shared bedroom.

“All the words I said too much have lost their value but maybe a kiss on the top of your head as you speak of what scares you will be a more concrete form of assurance that you won’t ever be left alone.”

Wen Junhui - always the one who held his heart.

“Jeon Wonwoo, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I hope you won’t be afraid of the change that will come with it since there will be a lot; because everyday I will love you a lot more than I did the day before.”

Wen Junhui - the only constant in Wonwoo’s life where everything else is ever-changing.

The moment those words came out of Jun’s mouth, into the air between them and straight to his heart, he knew. More than anything else, he’s afraid of losing Junhui who has always been more than just a roommate or a late night buddy. Jun is someone he has grown to love since the day he received the keys to his new dorm room. And that never changed.

Wen Junhui - the one he loves who loves him back.

The walls are bright with a flashing slideshow of all the times Jun made his heart skip a beat - ironically making him feel more alive. It doesn’t last long though, because Wonwoo finally meets Jun’s eyes.

Wen Junhui - his  _always_.


End file.
